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The lion plots at the Shark's rib
Transformers 2005 - Sunday, April 30, 2006, 6:42 PM --------------------------------------------------- You step into the Shark's Rib. Shark's Rib Beyond the barracks and past the soundproof barriers is the NCC's residential tavern, the Shark's Rib. The walls and ceilings are a deep blue colour, and various lighting creates a shimmering effect. Large curved support beams above the ceiling provide a protective cage over the recreational area. Energon flows through transparent spiral-shaped piping behind the bar to the right of the entrance, indicating to even the most over-energized Decepticon where to go to for a refill. Bartenders are available to dispense energon of various grades and blends. For people willing to part with more imperial credits and who know who and how to ask, the good product is kept under lock and key. There is seating at the bar for Decepticons of various sizes. There are also numerous booths for large groups. There is a small exposed area to serve as a dance floor with a raised level in front of it, complete with all the equipment necessary for public announcements and live group performances. Due to the lack of importance to the overall Decepticon mission, even more aesthetical decorations have been put into the Shark's Rib. Thin metallic spirals decorate the bar area, the furnishings and the walls. Music is often played through hidden speakers - often trumpet music, but also classic Imperial soldier tunes that every Decepticon knows well. Thing Contents: Comcast Fleet Fleet frowns thoughtfully as he considers this. The undead (and off-duty, thanks) Seeker is sitting at a table, talking with Comcast. "Cloaks are... awefully expensive, aren't they? You need special permissions to have them installed, and due to the technology involved, it's not granted lightly..." Comcast controls his own roster, so he's off-duty when he says he's off duty. "Well, if you get fully repaired like we said, there will be a certain amount of celebrity attached to your name. Perhaps you could use that. But anyway, it was merely one example. What do you think /you/ could be good at, Fleet?" Comcast and Fleet are drinking casually in one of the Booths at the Shark's Rib, there's a few empty mugs and receptacles that lazy waiters haven't cleared up sitting around them. "Celebrity," Fleet groaned, sinking into his seat. He covers his face with his hand. "Celebrity is probably... one of the last things I've ever wanted. And... you'd think it'd be a damned poor quality in a spy, too." The Seeker then pulls himself up and shrugs. "And... I dunno. Before now, I've been fairly decent at going unnoticed on the battlefield - there are advantages to being 'just another Seeker' - and my speed and manuverability have always been my strongest points. Well, that, and the fact that I..." He trails off, takes a sip, and continues, "I've actually got a central processor that I use from time to time." Comcast's snorts back energon into the receptacle he's drinking from. Razorclaw walks in decisively causing a few heads to turn...Predacons do not usually socialize in a place like this. One can only guess what purpose the predacon commander has in a place like this. "Waiter...2 mugs of energon with 1 part mech fluid in each." That request is...kinda disgusting when you think of it. Fleet allows himself a wry grin at Comcast's snort. "What? Are you trying to imply that I don't have a central processor, or that I don't use it from time to time?" He glances up as Razorclaw makes his order, and his lips turn his expression into one that's somewhat queesey. And this from the zombie. Comcast lowers the drink, chuckling. "No, your implied statement that many military operatives /don't/ have one they use. This is true. And Fleet... when I say 'celebrity' I mean in the temporary manner. I don't think that the Constructicons are treated with the respect they would have received back in the day for creating combiner system, after all." He turns to give Razorclaw a curious look as he announces his presence in the quiet bar. Fleet nods, and sighs. "Still, it's a pretty crummy state of affairs for someone who's spent a lifetime trying to not be worth noticing." Then he grins before taking another sip of energon. "Of course, that as good as sums up my whole life for the last couple of years, anyway." Razorclaw chugs down the first mug with anticipation...a few seconds to let it go down followed by a shiver. "That's the stuff...Too bad that mech fluid is brand new." He slowly turns around to have a look around at the bar's patrons. His optics stop on Fleet the zombie...Ever since this zombie thing started he's had questions and not enough awnsers... Comcast gulps and remembers /he/ was the one responsible for promoting Fleet beyond rank 1. "Well.. if you manage to get into DCI, I can be sure to skip.." He stops talking as Razorclaw arrives. Comcast looks at the Predacon, wincing a little bit at the boastful comment. Even leaving Military, you are still met with those with a bloodthirst in DCI. Sigh. "Strange to see you here, Razorclaw." Comcast says in a polite enough tone. Fleet tilts his head, obviously curious as to what he'll be able to skip, but he simply files it away as something to ask about at a future time and takes a sip at his energon. The Seeker looks up and greets the Predacon with a nod, and his name, "Razorclaw." Razorclaw walks over towards the duo's booth. "Colonel...Fleet." he says nodding to both. "Indeed...I rarely step in here but these days...The autobots have been keeping quiet...While I am known for waiting...This...lack of action is starting to irritate me. This...(motioning his second mug) is as close as you get to biting down an autobot fuel line." Comcast tries and completely fails to hide his disgust at Razorclaw. "Lovely." Is all he can manage. "Why not arrange a hunt with your pack? That always seems to get you in a good mood." Fleet dips his head. "Yes. To be honest... it seems strange that we're waiting for the Autobots to act at all. Isn't it the other way around? We act, they react?" Razorclaw looks up "I have been trying to put together a little operation in order to gather resources and possibly maim a few Autobots. I am simply waiting for the right moment...I need to have both Octane and Tantrum in peak condition for this. I was told Octane was still on 'light duty' so this puts the plan on hold for a few more days." He takes a sip from his second mug. The predacon ponders the subtle approach to getting his awnsers but then again he is not dealing with a pair of idiots now is he. Comcast's curiosity is officially piqued. leaving his receptacle on the table, he turns to face the Predacon. "And what exactly is it that you have planned, Razorclaw?" "Well, Octane's not mine, so I don't have authority to check his duty status," Fleet answers. He takes a sip of his drink and then pauses to consider the problem. The once-pastel wonder nods absently in agreement with Comcast's question. Razorclaw takes another sip from his second mug. "Over the past two weeks I have been checking out the Trinidad Oil Fields. Rich, relatively unspoiled. Up until now we have been more or less staying away from south america because of those militants. Well that time has passed...There are resources there and we need them. The fields are easily accessed and the jungle provides great cover for an approach of the plains. Any Autobot response will either require them to go over Mexican airspace which will require clearance which in turn will take time, or take the long way round which will also leave us enough time. I want both Octane and Tantrum to drain as much energon as they can from the oil derricks. That along with a yet to be named 3rd energon transport while 2 other Decepticons are on security detail, myself and a yet-to-be-designated-volunteer. Before that a sixth Decepticon will create a diversion over in england which will also hamper the autobot response." Fleet nods, frowning. "I would be careful on counting too much on slow Autobot response times. I've found they can be... startingly fast at times. However, you are right about the fields... the whole area, in fact. Really, we should probably look into the resources available in that whole region... not to mention trying to find ways to take advantage of the inevitable instability caused by the Militants' departure. So just who /is/ running the Mexican government these days, anyway?" Comcast agrees with Fleet. "Autobots do not restrict themselves to the Americas, by any stretch of the imagination. As for the new government.. I find it difficult to focus my attention on the dealings of these meat monsters for any length of time. I do not think it would be difficult to possibly even expand your plan either." Razorclaw turns his gaze to fleet. "I have taken that eventuality into consideration. Once all our tankers are full all that is left is basicly excess baggage and expendable. Lighting up a single derrick will create an effective smokescreen to cover our retreat. Should any autobots be foolish enough to charge into the smoke they will find that not all decepticons are required to see in order to be combat effective. As for who is running the mexican goverment? Do we really care wether it's one fleshbag or another?" He looks up pondering Comcast's comment "What would you have in mind?" Fleet chuckles softly. "My only reason for wondering that was to wonder if /anyone/ was running their government. If no one's picked it up yet, that may be useful." Comcast shrugs. "Honestly, I'd have to think about it. But if we're going to use our fuelers, why not throw Astrotrain in the mix with several units to load him with cubes? Honestly, if we're going to all this effort, a couple of fuellers aren't really going to carry all that much. More than I could, but in the grander scheme of things, still not a lot." Razorclaw nods "Yes Astrotrain would make a great third cargo." The predacon makes a mental note. "Additional units could be useful but it will likely change the mission profile. I was counting on making a lightning raid to minimize damage and maximize gain. We can turn this into a full assault on the oil fields and go for more but we have to expect a bigger response as well." Razorclaw "Personally I hope to get a decent form of opposition to tear apart." Fleet finishes his energon and sets his glass down. The zombie stands. "Good evening, you two. If you need anything from me for this, let me know later on, but for now I think I should be going for another defrag session." He nods to both the others, then turns and leaves. Fleet leaves the Shark's Rib. "If a battle is your desire, Razorclaw.." Comcast comments, "Your 'lightning strike' ploy of Distraction wouldn't be a good one. And if this is such an untouched resource, perhap it should be kept untouched until we are prepared for a full-scale assault to harvest every last drop of energon. A lightning strike assualt means we can only get what we can get." He nods to Fleet as he gets up and leaves, before turning to his Predacon subordinate. "This is only observations of course. I commend your drive for this plan as it is thus far." You say, "The thing about harvesting every last drop is that in this case it would be impossible. Harvesting every last drop would require to fortify our position and carry on the extraction for weeks at the very least if not months. The Autobots will never let this slide. It is difficult to fortify while under fire. I will take your advice under consideration in adjusting my plan. If everyone is ready it should go into action during the coming days." Comcast shrugs again. "Well like I said, I don't know much about this, so you have me at a disadvantage. We will most certainly discuss your proposal at a later time, Razorclaw, once I've finished my break cycle." He takes another gulp of his energon. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?" Razorclaw finishes his mug and ponders opening up the zombie topic but maybe he should take it up directly with Scrapper. The predacon gives his commander a small nod. "Nothing else at the moment." "Very well then. Dismissed, Razorclaw." Comcast says before returning to his high-grade energon in solitude. Razorclaw heads out shoving a seeker on the way. "Out of the way junior." With that the predacon leaves the bar to go nap or something. ***** *** * * * * * * *** *** **** * * *** * * * * *** * * *** *** ** * * ** * ** * *** *** *** * * *** *** * * * * *** **** * * *** * * * * * Category: Logs, Category: 2026